Hair in the Sand
by broadwaybaby529
Summary: "Yes, Victoire thought, I'm afraid I'll jump you right now, actually. She tried to keep her traitorous mind from going there, from finishing all their cozy late night reading sessions with wild bouts of lovemaking, from bringing their pillow fights and fort making rainy afternoons to heady climaxes in desperate movement."'


**Pairing:** Teddy/Victoire

**Rating:** M

**Tags:** Fluff, smut, canon, second - gen, mild swearing, potential imbibing, minor drug use, feels.

**A/N:** Don't ask me how but suddenly I'm on a Teddy/Vic kick. I've never done second - gen before so bear with me. Also, the title is terrible, I accept suggestions.

**Hair in the Sand**

Victoire found humor in the annual camping trip. Perhaps their year of running from the Dark Lord had left her Uncles, Ron and Harry, and her Aunt Hermione with a sentimental feel about tents and wilderness and open fires under open skies. Perhaps. She couldn't help but feel that had she been in a similar position she would never have strayed from a down comforter and marbled jacuzzi tub, but there were a lot of things about the Golden Trio Vic knew she would never understand.

On nights she could sleep Victorie actually like camping, something her mother was wont to loathe and her father found a deeper, more wild connection to. They'd been coming to the Wildwood Forest for years, far longer than she could remember, always with predictable responses to the wild. Though she'd yet to hear her father all out howl to the beckoning moon of the wide open sky she knew one of the reasons her mother agreed to the trip every year was because of how much those stars and trees meant to him - and Fleur could never say no to Bill Weasley.

The other main reason was that it served as an unofficial family reunion year after year. Their family, whatever that loose definition held, was massive, reaching beyond her nuclear family that lived together - the one she had not yet told about her plans to move out. It reached to include all of her father's six siblings and their children and spouses, as well as her mother's sister's family, and Teddy Lupin, Harry's Godson and honorary member of the Weasley's ever expanding clan.

The thought of Teddy made her smile. For all accounts and purposes she was the oldest of the brood of Molly Weasley's grandchildren, first born to the first born. Teddy, however, was two years older - and because of that they'd grown up together, learning and flying and running about the beaches near Shell Cottage and the woods near the Burrow, all before the others had first begun to stand, or even opened their eyes.

Victoire sighed. Normally it didn't bother her to be relegated to the children's tent - sleeping in bunk beds close to her brother and sister and cousins. Tonight, however, the sound of James' terrific snoring, something he no doubt inherited from his father, and her brother's sleeping talking - she was also fairly certain Fred had gotten up to pee in the potted plant at one point, were keeping her from slipping into the normally welcomed sleep of long days in the sun and water. She sighed again and slipped out of bed, sneaking out the tent's flap to keep from waking the others.

The Lake Front wasn't a long walk, but it was far enough to get away from the suddenly oppressive feeling of a large family and uncertain future. With a nearly full moon rising high above the expansive lake - its glow casting illumination across an indigo sky and slicing the dark with silver all around her, Victoire let her thoughts fall back to Teddy.

It was concerning, in some distant and far off way, that whenever she felt anxious or nervous or discontented his grin would appear in her mind, his shaggy turquoise hair would come to the front of her mind in snapshot memories of lazy summer afternoons or ridiculous Christmas gatherings or late nights spent in the Common Room, talking about everything to nothing and all in between.

She wondered where things were going to go from here, her Hogwarts graduation behind her and an ever looming future before her. Would their friendship lose the ease with which children so often play, would their movement towards young adulthood bring with it complication and confusion?

Victoire tried to shake her heads of the thoughts. Nothing had changed when Teddy had graduated, two years before her, and moved from his grandmother's mansion into a flat of his own. She was lucky with life and family and an open future. Worrying was a waste.

Letting that thought sink in she spread herself out on the beach, not caring that her light night gown was riding up her legs or that her hair, the strongest tie to her Veela ancestors, was collecting sand from tip to root. She was so enamoured with the feel of the shore and the bright, unwavering beauty of the moon that she didn't hear the padding approach of footsteps in the sand.

"This is a sight I could get used to seeing," she registered it as his voice before she registered a voice at all. Propping herself on her elbows Victoire looked up to the see the cutting figure Teddy made against the night. Much to her chagrin he wore only a pair of loose plaid pajama bottoms, resting low and dangerously on his hips. She tried not to think about the way his form had filled over the years, how his own ancestry had caught up with him, around the same time as puberty, how he was no longer the little boy she had grown up with.

"I can always trust on you to be a pervert, Lupin," she replied, but didn't bother fixing her hem. It was dark out anyway.

"Just for you, Weasley," he said, sitting beside her on the shore, "Always for you." She felt her heart race when he said things like that, more and more as of late on both their parts, but it stirred, as well, a carnal and desperate reaction, one she didn't fully understand.

"I heard you tossing and turning," Teddy began, leaning back on his own hands and giving Victorie a full and unadulterated view of just how much he'd grown up. "Couldn't sleep?" She could attribute his heightened sense of hearing to the werewolf tendencies, but that he'd followed her to the shore was something she was inclined to question. She shook her head, feeling the curls bounce around her face.

For a moment there was a comfortable silence between them, the sound of wind rustling late summer branches the only thing stirring.

"I'm moving out," she said, before she could stop herself. She hadn't wanted to tell anyone, hadn't wanted it to spread until it was said and done. Teddy, she surmised quickly, was not anyone. He turned to her. Even in the light of the moon she could see the bright hue of his hair, the reflection of the world in his eyes, so easy to find herself falling into them.

"You're scared." It was a question and a statement and a reassurance all at the same time. Graduating Hogwarts had been wonderful, a time of celebration. But the reality of not having plans was beginning to sink in as the summer's close encroached around them. Teddy had done it all before her and knew. Teddy knew _her._

"Unsure," she clarified. Of course she was scared - hell, she was terrified. With him, however, it all seemed so much more possible.

"Do you have a place to go?" he asked her, half of their conversation taking place without words or acknowledgement. They no longer needed them.

"Not yet," she admitted, "It's why I'm still living at home." He looked at her, and she could feel his gaze, hot and lasting and so hard to ignore.

"You could move in with me," he offered, without a beat. Victoire almost laughed. She could imagine the torture of living with him, of running into him fresh out of the shower, wearing only his towel, of helping getting rid of his morning afters as they grabbed for lingerie behind the couch and she tried to control her jealousy, of trying to keep herself from giving into his pretend flirtations, which seemed to be getting more and more real every day. She sighed.

"What?" Teddy asked, laughing, "I'm perfectly clean, I'll have you know. I showered three days ago and everything." She leaned her head against his arm and pushed him slightly, disconcerted by the hardness of his bicep against her skin. She wondered, briefly, if he had grown up when she hadn't been looking.

"I don't think I can handle that," she admitted quietly, looking anywhere but him. She could practically hear him smirk.

"Afraid you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself?" he joked, "You'll just have to jump me in my sleep?" _Yes_, Victoire thought, _I'm afraid I'll jump you right now, actually._ She tried to keep her traitorous mind from going there, from finishing all their cozy late night reading sessions with wild bouts of lovemaking, from bringing their pillow fights and fort making rainy afternoons to heady climaxes in desperate movement. She could have gone on, but Teddy was talking again.

"I wouldn't mind, you know?" He began, his voice desperately deep with sleep laden baritone.

"Mind what?" She wished she'd been listening to him, instead of fantasizing about his sinful smirk and their happy go lucky repartee.

"If you jumped me in my sleep." His hair had gone red, redder than her family's usually went, with cheeks to match. To his credit he continued. "I wouldn't mind if you jumped me right now, actually," he added. "Or in the shower or in the bunk bed, or that pillow fort we made last summer or all of the nights we spent playing Wizard's Chess in the library." Victoire looked at him, the expression in his eyes not related to the metamorphmagus, but instead clouded with lust and understanding.

"Teddy?" She began, but he didn't let her finish.

"I know," he said, "I'm just horny and perverted and I shouldn't go about saying this because I don't want to ruin the incredible friendship we have just for a shag but it's so much more than that. You'll never just be a shag, you're too incredible, too impossible to ignore and brilliant and beautiful and powerful and wonderful in all the ways it took me twenty years to understand."

He took a moment to pause and laughed. "I'm sure this isn't helping you feel any less scared," he added.

She would have responded, normally. She would have had some wordy and properly phrased answer to fit his admission. She would have dotted her is and crossed her ts.

Instead she did the one thing she could never have seen herself doing - she straddled him. The first contact of their skin and Victoire felt any coming regrets fly out the window. Beneath her she could already feel his arousal, pulsing and full. She desperately wanted to feel him, feel all of him. She set herself to the task, kissing the inside of his neck, running down his bare chest, even more wonderful to feel than to look at, moving her mouth along his arms and hands in desperate frenzy.

"Vic," Teddy choked out, voice laden with heavy and needy lust, "I'm so not complaining, but are you sure you want to move so fast?" She kissed him to shut him up - something she realized she hadn't yet done, in her consumption of his body. And gods, it was glorious, his hands running through her hair, cupping her breasts in need and drinking from her mouth like a man starved.

"So much for slow," she teased, then rocked hard against his cock, reveling in the feeling of it against her. He growled into her shoulder when she did, pulsing even more than before.

"Screw slow," he muttered, and the next thing Victoire knew she was flat on her back, his impressive frame silhouetted by the moon and one of his large hands pushing her legs apart.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" He muttered, the deep tone of his voice sending desperate need through her. "All spread out and desperate." He slid a finger across her panties, soaked through by their earlier ministrations. He dropped his head for a moment to lick to satin fabric. "You're so wet," Teddy growled, "So wet for me." She couldn't have responded if she wanted to - the sound of his voice tonguing the deeply erotic and desperately sinful verbiage had her nearly at the edge already, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle the real thing.

"Do you want it?" He asked her, sliding her panties from her body and slipping a single finger inside. Victoire's whole body bucked. "Hmmm," he whispered, "I want to hear you beg." He crooked his finger and leaned into her ear. "Beg for my cock, like a sweet little girl." He paused and slid in another finger. She whimpered. "Beg me to fuck you."

Victoire was known, among both her family and most of Hogwarts, as a strong willed person who went down swinging, if she went down at all - a rare occurrence in and of itself.

Still pushing herself desperately onto his fingers she growled in his ear.

"I want to feel your cock inside of me, filling me up and fucking me like you meanit." The words did wonders to Teddy - he sucked hard on the crook of her neck and harshly pushed his thumb over her swollen clit, muttering in her ear _cum for me princess_.

She did - with a resounding scream that she would later wonder how it didn't wake the whole family. Behind her eyelids came the fireworks of a thousand parades, popping and blinding and desperately wonderful as she fell over the edge.

It took her only a moment to open her eyes, but when she did Teddy was staring back at him.

"Mmm, what?" She murmured, still barely thinking straight. His hair flared red.

"Just that that may have been the sexiest thing I've ever seen," he replied, and she found she could very much get used to the deep tone of his voice, her arousal already tingling again.

"Why don't you prove that?" She said, then pulled her nightgown over her head, letting it fall somewhere in the sand before moving on to his pants.

"Last chance to say no," he reminded, but she shook her head and slid his pajama bottoms from his hips.

He wasn't wearing any underwear and first glance at his prominent arousal told Victoire she was already ruined for other men. Without thinking she tossed away the pants and lowered her lips to the head of his weeping cock, soaking up the glory of having Teddy Lupin desperate writhing below her, sucking in heavy breaths as she swirled her tongue around his glorious erection.

"Vic - ," he begged, "Not right now, next time." She nodded and came up, giving him a chance to palm her breasts, beautifully lit from the moon and heavy with her aroused breathing. She didn't give him much of a chance to touch, however, before climbing back on top of him and sinking his massive cock into her waiting entrance.

For a moment neither of them could move, the sensation of filling and being filled so deliciously glorious that they took the time to remember it, to mark it down and keep it. Victoire knew she wasn't going to last long, however, and rocked her hips slowly. Teddy had other plans, bucking up to meet her gyration and hitting her deep. She bit down on his shoulder to keep from waking the tents.

"Please," she begged him, "Please more." With that Teddy flipped them, pinning her arms above her head and sliding himself home. One more thrust, two more - the tell tale signs of her coming climax heightened and she could see him losing control, one more thrust. He thumbed her clit once more, just as he drove his cock into her desperately willing body, and Victoire lost it - falling over the great expansive edge with a desperate cry into the wall of muscle before her, her body pulsing, pulsing pulsing, a sensation which sent Teddy pummeling behind her, flashes of lights and pleasure and desperation flashing before them as they rode the wave of wonderful pleasure.

She woke up a few moments later to the moon still high, snuggled in Teddy's arms.

"You're amazing," Victoire muttered, "That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." He smiled, a genuine Teddy smile, and nuzzled her neck.

"Wanna do it some more?" He laughed when he saw her face, "Not right now, I mean in the future. We could do that whenever we wanted, and maybe go to dinner or a play or to Paris or wherever you would want to go that you would let me tag along to." She grinned, a realization dawning on her - it was always going to end like this, the two of them, no doubt.

"I'll go anywhere with you, Teddy Lupin," she said with a smile, letting him lean in to kiss her softly, gently.

"Will you move in with me?" He asked her, the offer's meaning having changed drastically. "We could have our own rooms and all. If it's not too much. We could always go slower."

Victoire shook her head, they'd been dancing this dance for years and now that she had him she wasn't going to waste any time.

"Screw slow" she muttered, and pulled him in for another kiss, the two of them grinning until the sun came up.


End file.
